Come Hither: A Collection of Rhymes and Poems for the Young of All Ages

by Unknown

Nor Flora's pride!

In thee all flowers and roses spring—

Mine, only died.

In obitum MS. X^o Maij. 1614, William Browne

[293]. "Sunk Lyonesse."

There is a legend—recorded in an ancient monastic chronicle—that in the days of Arthur there stretched between Land's End and the Scillies a country of castles, of fair towns, and landscapes, named Lyonesse. When the tumult of the last great Arthurian battle was over, there befell a cataclysm of nature, and in a night of tempest this whole region was engulfed beneath the seas.

What truth is in this legend no certain history relates. But when the vast Atlantic breakers begin to lull after storm, to lie listening in the watches of the night is to hear, it would seem, deep-sunken belfries of bells sounding in the waters, and siren-like lamentations. I have myself heard this, and fantasy though it may be, if the ear is once beguiled into its deceit, the bells clash and chime on and on in the imagination, mingled with the enormous lully of the surges, until at last, one falls asleep.

[299]. "Sing no sad Songs for Me."

—and here is another such happy and tender word of farewell—but from one unknown: